


A Sunlit Promise

by AfricanDaisy



Series: The Iathrim Chronicles [14]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Children, Doriath, F/M, Family, First Age, Happy, Love, Nobility, Princes & Princesses, Romance, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfricanDaisy/pseuds/AfricanDaisy
Summary: On a summer's day in the Woodland Realm of Doriath, a young lord discovers the joy of breaking rules and defying expectations.





	A Sunlit Promise

Once upon a time the young Princes of Doriath had been the most sought after ellyn in the kingdom, the greatest and most coveted prizes for any ambitious parent seeking matches for their daughters. But that was no more. Galathil and his cousin Celepharn were husbands and fathers, and all knew it was the Lady Galadriel who held Celeborn’s heart. Still, that did not spare them the occasional flirtatious look or coy smile from a hopeful elleth trying her luck. They had learned to smoothly navigate such currents and manage the disillusioned few, but there was one elleth none of them could dare defy: Lady Baraves.

 

If the sudden slew of hasty bows and wide-eyed curtsies hadn’t alerted them to the arrival of their mother and aunt, her familiar scent of morning glory would have caught their attention as she swept through the salon with a trio of handmaidens trailing behind her. “What are you boys doing?” Lady Baraves asked by way of greeting, her silks of lavender and sky blue settling around her as she stopped by their table.

 

Celepharn thought it was obvious as Galathil moved a piece of polished white marble on the Warriors board set between them. He held his tongue, and watched Celeborn rise to kiss Baraves’ cheek. “Naneth,” the older ellon greeted her smoothly. “We just came from a visit to Daeradar Elmo and Daernaneth Aerdis. We thought to have a quick Warriors tournament and hear Minstrel Lindril’s latest composition before leaving. Would you care to join us?”

 

“Thank you, no,” Baraves said briefly. “Your father is attending the King. I’ve a mind to return home. I thought my sons might escort me.”

 

It sounded like a suggestion, but all three ellyn knew that Baraves only ever gave commands. “I had best stay with Celepharn,” Galathil attempted. “It would be rude to leave him mid-game. You don’t want me to be rude, Naneth.”

 

“You may bring him with you if you like,” Baraves offered, glancing at her nephew. “Celepharn, I trust that is acceptable.”

 

Celepharn thought he had best make the effort to be gracious. He took a breath, but his aunt had turned on her heel and was already halfway across the salon, scattering a group of young lords and ladies dancing to the minstrel’s song. “You may bring him with you if you like?” Celepharn repeated, getting to his feet. “That is what I tell my children when they don’t want to leave their favourite toy at home.”

 

A reluctant smile touched Celeborn’s lips, but Galathil laughed out loud as they abandoned their game of Warriors. Two minor lordlings and their hangers-on were quick to replace them at the gaming table. “I am sorry. If it’s any consolation, at least she knows you’re our _favourite_ toy.”

 

“Thanks ever so,” Celepharn replied dryly.

 

The three ellyn didn’t tarry, for that was never the way to respond to a summons from Lady Baraves. Even so, by the time they emerged from the caverns of Elu Thingol’s subterranean palace, Baraves was astride her silver mare wearing the expression of an elleth who had been kept waiting half a day. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she waited for her sons and nephew to mount up, but soon enough – though surely not soon enough for her liking – they were off. Galathil and Celepharn rode at the front, while Celeborn stayed next to his mother and sweetened her mood like only a favoured son could. The handmaidens and a couple of guards brought up the rear, each of them grateful that they had been saved from keeping their lady happy.

 

They hadn’t been riding for long before the sound of a distant commotion reached their ears. Galathil stopped his horse, and Celepharn brought his to a reluctant halt as shrieks and jumbled exclamations drifted onto the path. “What is that racket about?” Baraves demanded from behind them. “Can you hear it? What is going on?”

 

A less polite ellon than Celepharn would have pointed out that they couldn’t see through trees. “I’m sure it is nothing,” he said instead. “But I shall go and check to be sure.”

 

“Take a guard with you,” Baraves commanded him. “Thalamir, accompany my nephew.”

 

Somewhere, that less polite ellon was rolling his eyes. Celepharn settled for the tiniest of sighs that barely lifted his shoulders, and rode off the path with the guardsman at his side. As his horse picked a careful route through the bushes and trees, over a fallen log and around the holes of a rabbit warren, the disturbance that he had heard became clearer – laughter, splashing, the sound of joy. He didn’t need to hear it to know what it was. He could feel it in his heart, three distinct bonds becoming stronger and surer with every step his horse took. The young lord’s heart swelled with anticipation, and his breath caught as he emerged from the trees into a sunlit glade with a lake of sparkling silver-blue at its centre.

 

He stopped at the treeline, unwilling to disturb the scene in front of him until it was committed to his memory. His usual expression of noble indifference was gone as he gazed upon his beautiful wife, clad only in a soaking wet shift that clung to her every curve, as she lifted their youngest son above her head. Celepharn watched her playfully threaten to drop the child in the water, while little Vehiron shrieked and giggled without restraint. Their eldest, fifteen coronarí old Oropher, jumped up and down in excitement, clapping his hands and begging Neldiel to let go of his baby brother so he could have his turn.

 

“What’s happening, gwador? Oh…” Galathil had followed, and he tilted his head in mild interest as he stopped next to Celepharn. “That looks remarkably like your wife and heirs playing in the lake.”

 

Celepharn rolled emerald eyes towards his cousin. “You are as observant as ever.”

 

“Do you want to stay?”

 

_Yes_ , Celepharn longed to reply. _I want to stay. I want to be with them._ “Best not,” he said instead. “Your mother.”

 

Galathil gave the younger ellon a smile that was both sympathetic and encouraging. “Say no more. Come back after escort duty and perhaps Neldiel will still be here with the boys. I’m sure she will be.”

 

“I’m sure you are right.” The reluctant nudge that Celepharn gave his horse should have seen them turning back to the road, but the grey stallion’s ability to read his master’s moods prevailed. “Now isn’t the time to be perceptive, Aranuir,” Celepharn quietly scolded his horse, who ignored him with not even a flick of an ear. “I shall blame you if Aunt Baraves loses patience and comes to find us. Let’s _go_.”

 

It was too late. Lady Baraves had already lost patience. She rode out from the trees while Celepharn was mid-argument with his horse, and irritably swatted away a branch that had dared to snag on her silken sleeve. “You may look as dismayed as you like, Celepharn, but if you insist on taking your time then you cannot be surprised when I come to make sure you are not dawdling or getting into trouble. I know what boys are like,” she said haughtily. She glared at her nephew and youngest son, but her expression turned to one of horror as she looked past them. “You said you were sure it was nothing, Celepharn. It does not look like _nothing_ to me.”

 

“Well, in the grand scheme of things,” Celepharn began.

 

“No,” Baraves interrupted severely, raising a hand to silence him. “Your _wife_ is splashing about in a lake wearing nothing more than a shift – though it is a small mercy she is wearing anything at all, knowing Neldiel as I do – whilst your heirs frolic and roll in the water as if they were common urchins. This is not acceptable behaviour, Celepharn, and you ought to be doing something about it. Are you not going to control your wife?”

 

“Not really,” Celepharn said flatly.

 

Galathil promptly turned a snort of laughter into a cough, and Celeborn just sighed as he resigned himself to the inevitable clash between his mother and his cousin. Lady Baraves wasn’t paying attention to either of her sons; her incredulous gaze was fixed on her nephew. “Not really?” she repeated. “What is that supposed to mean? You are Neldiel’s lord and husband. Don’t you think you ought to at least punish her?”

 

“For what?”

 

Diamonds sparkled in the sunlight as Baraves jabbed her finger in the direction of the lake. “For that.”

 

“For what?” Celepharn asked again. He looked calmly at his aunt. There was no acceptable answer to his question; no matter how personally offended Baraves was, she couldn’t provide a legitimate reason for Neldiel to be punished. Celepharn knew that, and what was more, _Baraves_ knew it too. She stayed coolly silent, refusing to be baited. “My wife is being a mother to our children,” Celepharn said finally. “I was unaware that such a thing is an offence.”

 

“That is not the way a noble lady should be a mother,” Baraves snapped.

 

“My sons seem to have no complaints,” Celepharn remarked.

 

“Then what will you do? If you approve of this behaviour so very much, are you going to join them?” Baraves demanded. Her eyes narrowed as the young lord tilted his head thoughtfully. “Don’t you dare.”

 

“But your suggestion was so well made, Aunt Baraves,” Celepharn replied, turning his horse toward the lake.

 

He didn’t have to see the fury on his aunt’s face to know it was there. He could feel it as she pierced his back with her sapphire stare. “Your father will hear about this, and we shall see what _he_ thinks about such conduct,” Baraves said sharply. “Lord Gwathion would never approve of you turning your back on me and riding away without so much as a by your leave. It is as though you have completely taken leave of your senses.”

 

Celepharn paused and turned back. “By your leave, Aunt Baraves,” he said politely, bowing from the saddle. He didn’t wait to see her expression. He didn’t need to see it and he didn’t want to. He spared an apologetic look for his friends as he rode into the glade, and he was secretly relieved to see no disapproval on Celeborn’s face. His eldest cousin could be even more a stickler for the rules than he himself could. Galathil always had his back, but breaking protocol in Celeborn’s presence tended to carry with it some risk. It seemed that wasn’t something Celepharn had to worry about this time, so he firmly pushed the events of the previous few minutes from his mind. Dismounting, he tethered his horse next to Neldiel’s white mare and Oropher’s little pony. He assumed that Baraves had left in disgust, for as his wife and children noticed him and came out of the water, they only had eyes for him.

 

“Ada, you’re here!” Vehiron exclaimed, looking like he very much wanted to throw his arms around his father’s legs.

 

“Have you come to take us home?” Oropher asked, sounding resigned.

 

Kneeling between his children, Celepharn took a small hand from each of them. He ran his thumb lightly over the tips of their fingers, smooth and unwrinkled by the water. “Well, you have not yet started turning into raisins. I think you have not played enough in the water.”

 

Oropher looked doubtful. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Celepharn confirmed. “You should play some more.”

 

Vehiron didn’t need to be told twice, and he ran back to the lake with an excited whoop while his elder brother smiled and followed at a somewhat more sedate pace. Splashes and laughter immediately filled the glade once more as Neldiel turned to her beloved. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

“Nor I you.” Celepharn pulled her close, uncaring that she was soaking wet against his body. He ran the tips of his fingers from her neck down to her lower back, smiling as she shivered pleasingly. “I thought you had a gown fitting this afternoon with your mother. And what happened to Ivoniel?”

 

“The couturier had to rearrange for tomorrow,” Neldiel replied. “Oh, and I fired Ivoniel.”

 

Celepharn blinked. He drew back and looked down into his wife’s lovely eyes, attempting the impossible and trying to figure her out. He had known Neldiel for most of his nearly nine hundred years, and loved her for almost as long, but still she could confound him with no effort on her part. “You…fired our children’s nurse?”

 

“No, silly,” Neldiel laughed. “I gave her the day off, and extra wages, and I told her to go buy herself something pretty.”

 

“How generous of you,” Celepharn observed.

 

Neldiel smiled sweetly. “It is good to be kind. But you haven’t been kind. How cruel of you, to hold your wife yet fail to give her even the tiniest of kisses.”

 

“Oh, but of course I am so terribly cruel.” Celepharn leaned in to steal one of the kisses he loved so much. His lips had barely grazed Neldiel’s when he sensed that they weren’t alone. He opened his eyes, and the sight of an elfling standing a respectful distance away made him draw back from his wife. “What is it, Oropher?”

 

“Nana told us that when you come swimming with her, you throw her in the water,” Oropher reported. “Is that true? I think you ought not to throw ellith. It’s rude.”

 

“I applaud your sense of decency, hil-nín,” Celepharn said seriously, while Neldiel stifled a husky laugh with the back of her hand. He removed his cloak and unbuckled his boots, dropping them to the ground as he spoke. “You are quite right. It is entirely inappropriate to throw ellith. You must never do that. Unless, of course, you have married the elleth in question and there is an agreement between you both – spoken or not – that you may throw her into lakes.”

 

“Do ellith agree to that?” Oropher asked uncertainly.

 

Celepharn shed his tunic and his shirt of blue silk so he stood in just forest green leggings, and gave his son a half-smile. “Your mother did.”

 

With her hands on her hips and her head cocked, Neldiel took a step back, and then another, daring Celepharn to follow. He responded to her challenge, and swept her into his arms with one deft movement that made Oropher’s eyes widen in shocked delight. In the shallows of the lake, Vehiron giggled as their father strode past with his willing prisoner squirming and wriggling in his grasp. Neldiel’s protests were only token ones. She was breathless with laughter, helpless as her husband effortlessly lifted her above the water.

 

“Drop her, Ada!” Vehiron crowed, splashing his feet. “Drop Nana in the pool.”

 

“I’ll get you back for this, Celepharn Gwathionchil,” Neldiel gasped.

 

Celepharn smirked. “I cannot wait.”

 

The boys cheered and clapped as Neldiel was summarily thrown into the water, but the moment she surfaced and sent a great splash of water at Celepharn, they switched sides and joined in. It wasn’t often that the proud young lord indulged in such playtime, so his small sons took advantage of the opportunity and he took it in good humour. He snatched up an elfling in each arm, holding them close and dunking them underwater. They emerged spluttering but howling with laughter, shaking droplets of water from their dark hair.

 

Finally, Celepharn declared it time to get out of the lake. The children hesitated, but it only took a raised eyebrow from their father to make them sigh and reluctantly splash their way back to shore. “Were we starting to turn into raisins?” Oropher asked, examining his somewhat wrinkled fingertips.

 

“I’m afraid so,” Celepharn replied, settling the boys together on Neldiel’s cloak. “Lie there and dry off, both of you.”

 

The playtime had well and truly worn the brothers out. Their energy of moments before was replaced by yawns, and they curled themselves into balls beneath the warmth of the sun’s rays. As it lulled them to sleep, Celepharn covered them with his own cloak. Kneeling beside them, he rested one hand on Oropher’s head and the other on Vehiron’s, silent as he idly stroked their hair. He could feel Neldiel’s eyes on him, and he looked up with a small smile. “What?”

 

“Nothing. I like watching you with them,” she replied, smiling back.

 

Celepharn had seen that smile a thousand times, a hundred thousand times, but still it took his breath away and made him feel weak. He thought he would never stop marvelling at his wife; at her beauty, her strength, her power. He stood and went straight to her, taking her into his arms and burying his hands in her damp hair with a sigh of longing. He couldn’t be happier that he had defied his aunt to be with those he loved most, and yet…uninvited, the harsh words and callous criticisms of Lady Baraves came back to sting him. How could her vision of him and Neldiel be better than their reality, he wondered. “Will you promise me something?” he asked of his beloved. “Promise me you won’t change. Promise me that _we_ won’t change.”

 

“Many have tried to change us, and they have all failed,” Neldiel replied, her voice gentle. “Why do you ask this now?”

 

“Just promise it,” Celepharn softly implored her.

 

Neldiel tilted her head up and gave him a sweet kiss. “I promise.”


End file.
